Journal: Art’s Apt Expression

> Journal Entry 16

(The art for the blogroll image is taken from the promotional poster my brother had made for me for my first solo live performance)


Haven’t written up a journal entry in quite a while, or so it feels. It feels like it’s been ages since I put down words on paper, for the reason of only nagging about people and situations around me at least. But yet again, this isn’t another nagging session. It’s more about talking about what’s going on in my life and how I perceive all the shitstorms that I have to pull myself out of while I ache to find ways to subjugate the pain that wants to come out.

Let’s talk about that then. Expressing pain. Let’s talk about art. Let’s talk about artists. Let’s talk.

Having an impulsive hate against newer artists is not necessarily a bad thing and I do believe there can be good reasons that drive people to hating them fast. It’s not bad because, in a sea full of pretenders, when you discover that one unique snowflake, you will fall in love with it and appreciate it in a way that you would have never done so before if you just treated everyone the same. That “sea” though is ever growing and full of tides that can slowly drag you to an ever spinning whirlpool of nonsense and hypo-criticism. The topic at hand in this case is all those people that just because they feel “pressured” they find some kind of escape. Usually that escape is art.

But I for example, cannot take 99% of the female artists out there any seriously. They really have to have something unique and a good way of proving that they are different and full of good will. I am not taking the “boys’ side” here, but the art business fields are filled with all those pretentious cute girls that want to make it big with the only result being that the scene is just flooded even more with their “kind.”

Being a quite experienced musician though that has both casually and professionally been on and off teams of people that had to work with all forms of combinations of art verses and genres, I do believe that any person out there on this god-forbidden planet has the inert ability of being able to express himself/herself through some fort of art. Not all are as good at it, but that doesn’t mean they can’t do it or that they can’t practice it and get better. I always told people that anyone can learn music at any age. Proof of that is my 36 year olds (old man) Robert, who only a year ago picked up the bass and started learning. Now he’s jammin’ out jazz tunes and rhythms that he only dreamt of being able to play a year ago.

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Illustration by my brother, Dimitris Christakis.

No, no, no. I want to talk about the pretenders. I want to talk about the people that explore art and only go up to a certain point since they realize quickly enough that it’s enough for them to get a bit of attention. Don’t say you do it for yourself if you are at that level. No. Everyone wants attention. Surely there are people that make art more casually without the motive of being heard or seen, but the people that do go out of their way to be seen and heard with that small level only reached makes me sad and rotten inside. I say “rotten” because, every god damn time I listen to a cover song on youtube, they all sound the same. There are so many frequencies out there and yet 90% of people will choose to make the fakey “diva” voice when singing a cover.

I can already see how this article started from something and is growing to be something else. But that’s the beauty of impulsive creative writing I guess. Derailing your thoughts without realizing in a stormy mist of feelings.

It’s hard to just go out and judge people for being “pretentious” but it’s also hard to live by in a world where you can’t criticize without provoking negative responses, to you, or to the person that you were criticizing. I am not saying all these things because of my experience with art, but rather because I get to meet people who are passionate about art without being able to produce it themselves and yet, despite their deep passion for it, in most cases they are really confused as to how they should approach it or what it means for them. Being flooded though, with people that all are trying to get your attention, is not really helping either.


One would blame me for wanting difference though. It’s not that those covers are bad to listen to. It’s just that, you get tired of hearing the same thing, over and over again. I feel like I’ve been spoiled. It’s like the whole “watch too much porn and sex is ruined for you” situation. You’ve basically listened to so much music that you are constantly disappointed by things that sound alike. You are always in the search of something different, but not actively. Your subconscious just jumps out of the blue time and again to remind you of how much you hate cute 18 year old girls that want to sing another Lady Gaga song on their guitar in front of their cheap-ass camera so that they can upload it on youtube. You ache to find variety.

Is there variety though? Well, there is. It’s just that people aren’t willing to seek it out. If you are already in some sort of “comfortable” social circle, then all your tastes and likes are affected directly. You might not realize it, but if I tell you to crank up a metal song, you’ll hesitate and probably not do it. “No man, we don’t do metal here.” Well, why not? Why the fuck not? Let’s not say metal. Let’s say that was a bad example. Let’s say hip hop. It’s not your kind of thing you’d say.

Well tough luck. Because scientific research has shown that people that invest time in understanding a different genre of music, learn not to like it, but instead discover new ways of expressing certain feelings that the music they used to listen before didn’t allow them to express as effectively. People that said “I know I don’t like hip hop” were told to invest time in exploring a certain amount of bands around a certain genre and as luck would have it, whaddya know, they found more than one to their liking.


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So don’t discard things. Don’t discard feelings. Don’t discard art. Don’t make assumptions (like I do for example..). Allow people to reach you through their art. You also have to remember that art is really subjective and strongly described by opinion, rather than actual facts. Surely, science has proved how our cortex nerves and neural transmissions have to do something with certain frequencies, but try to keep it all aural and theoretical and you’ll most probably have more fun with it that way.

I have so much more to say about this particular subject. Both about art and expressing one’s feelings, but I’d rather keep it at this length and just call it a day here (or a night.) This was more about getting something out of my system and not about going all digging into psychology matters.

Personally, I find that playing music allows me to express all the feelings that I cannot express in any other way. I laugh with anything, anyone might say to me. I don’t do it on purpose, I just feel that way. But when I play music, it’s like that sad motherfucker comes out of his hiding and puts me in the most miserable and depressive state of being I’ve ever felt. It’s like I store everything there and unleash it in one go.

I don’t know if you agree with me on all of those things, but in any case, thank you for taking the time to read my full-of-metaphors journal entry yet again. Till next time my good readers.

-Konstantinos “Kelfecil” Christakis

Here’s a “feels trip” that I recored about 4 years ago during a really dark and long night.

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